


Number Eight

by kathasaurus_rex



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Agender Ben Hargreeves, Canonical Child Abuse, Everyone Needs A Hug, Feline Companions, Fluff, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pets, Protective Siblings, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Siblings Who Fight Together Suffer Together, Sleepy Cuddles, Sneaky children, The Hargreeves Siblings Deserve Nice Things, lgbtq character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:17:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathasaurus_rex/pseuds/kathasaurus_rex
Summary: Number Eight isn't what you would expect. Number Eight is an enigma, always napping, a huge fan of personal hygiene, and surrounded by super-powered assholes.He steals candy from Five, prefers to sleep on Vanya's bed, and will perch on Diego's shoulders if allowed.Number Eight also isn't a human.





	1. In the Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

> So... this fic was completely born from my FB Messenger conversations with my bestie Nuwanda. We agreed that the Hargreeves siblings deserve something fucking nice, so... we created something nice. 
> 
> LOL the first chapter is short but the next few... aren't. Like, at all. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Allison blinked awake, body curled up around a pillow. She could just see her alarm clock on her desk: 12:27 a.m. She let out a groan and slapped out a hand, patting around on her nightstand until she could flip the switch on her lamp, filling the room with light. 

 

There was no reason for her to be awake, but lately she had been waking up around the same time each night. At ten years old, Allison had considered early puberty as the culprit, but after a look through a few of Reginald’s books in library, she had ruled that out. She then considered insomnia, but that did not make any sense, as falling asleep was always easy after a full day of training and mandatory “homeschooling.” 

 

“It’s probably nothing,” Luther had whispered to her in the hallway that night, before they separated to go to their own rooms, “but if you wake up and you want some company, you can come wake me up. I don’t mind.” 

 

Allison wasn’t going to wake him up. Luther worked harder than all of them, and he deserved the sleep. Maybe Diego would be awake though… she slid out of bed and shoved her feet into her slippers before standing slowly, stretching her arms above her head. She opened her bedroom door slowly and stepped out into the hallway. 

 

The Academy was weird at night. She moved down the hall and leaned up against Diego’s door, listening - no, he was asleep. His familiar sleep whistle made her smile, and she continued on down the hallway. If Diego wasn’t awake, she doubted any of her siblings would be. 

 

She could use a pick-me-up… Mom had made cookies earlier that week, and if Five hadn’t eaten them all, she could definitely go for one with a glass of milk. 

 

The path to the kitchen was easy. Allison knew which floorboards creaked loudly, what lights flickered no matter what light bulb you put in them, and Reginald’s path to his office if he had attempted to sleep. (It honestly seemed as though the man never slept - sometimes Allison thought he might not even be human.)

 

She entered the kitchen and reached over to flip up the light switch, blinking rapidly as the fluorescents came to life. She reached her hands up to rub at her eyes for a moment before blinking again. 

 

Because there was a kitten… a kitten, on the kitchen table. How did a kitten even get into the house? 

 

“ _ Meow _ .” 

 

Allison bit her bottom lip before taking a few steps forward, smiling when the kitten didn’t move. She reached a hand out, and the kitten padded forward, right into her hand. The kitten had gray fur and yellow eyes, and its face appeared squashed. And it wanted her to pet it. 

 

She had asked Reginald several times for a pet, but he had always either ignored her or said no for a variety of reasons.  _ Bullshit _ , as Five would say. She didn’t believe in wishes, not really, but what was this kitten doing here if not granting a wish? 

 

Carefully, hesitantly, Allison picked up the kitten and cradled it to her chest. It went easily, trusting her, and once cradled against her chest, it began to purr. Thoughts of cookies far from her mind, she went to the cabinets and grabbed one of the plastic bowls from when she and the others had been small, too small to use “proper” dishes. That was back when they had still had nannies, before Mom. If she thought hard enough, she could remember back when they had all been so close. 

 

“Why don’t we go back to my room,” she whispered to the kitten, “and I’ll sneak into the bathroom and get you some water, okay?” The kitten blinked at her, still purring, and Allison nodded, moving to flip off the light switch and heading back the way she came. “You know, I think it might be easiest to just call you Number Eight.” 

 

A small meow and a yawn was all the answer Allison needed. 


	2. His Humans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight meets the rest of his Humans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight is no ordinary cat, my friends. Thanks for all the Kudos! I hope you enjoy chapter two... honestly, we stan an overprotective cat. 
> 
> ♡,  
> Kath

Number Eight did not mind his new life, not at all. While Allison slept, he would curl up beside her, napping, or stare at the doorway, waiting for something to happen. When she was away at meals, training, or doing schoolwork, he took care of his business in the lined cardboard box she had procured for him, batted around old socks, ate at the bacon and sausage scraps she stole for him, or napped. He liked to nap. 

 

That is what he was doing when the door opened, and Not Allison appeared. This child snuck in and closed the door behind himself. He had messy, curly hair, and knobby knees, and he appeared to be on a mission. 

 

Number Eight did not care about missions. He wished only to sleep because after bathing himself, he was  _ tired _ . 

 

But the child spotted him then, and appeared to be confused. “You’re not a ghost,” he said, voice still childishly squeaky. 

 

_ What even…  _ Number Eight thought, blinking at him. He let out a small rumble and stretched out his legs before curling back up into a ball and closing his eyes. The child was not a threat. His eyes opened again to see that Not Allison had come closer, kneeling down beside the bed to eye him. 

 

“But what are you doing here?” Not Allison questioned, hesitantly reaching out to let Number Eight sniff at his hand. He smelled like dirt and soap and hashbrowns: the kitten pushed his nose against the boy’s palm and purred. “Does Allison know you’re here? She has been acting weird the last few days, but I thought maybe she was on her period or something.” 

 

Not Allison had no issues talking to an animal, and that alone pleased Number Eight. Allison often spoke quietly to him at night before she fell asleep, telling him about her day. It was…  _ nice _ . Not Allison’s hand moved up to scratch behind his ears, and it was perfection. 

 

The familiar sound of the door opening, of Allison slipping into the room before shutting the door again quickly, and locking it. “ _ Klaus? _ ” she said, “What are you  _ doing  _ in my  _ room _ ?” 

 

Ah.  _ Klaus _ . 

 

“I came in to borrow your mascara. You said you didn’t mind, after last time,” Klaus said, fingers still smoothing over Number Eight’s gray fur. “And then I saw this kitten hanging out on your bed. Does Dad know? What are you going to do?” 

 

Allison let out a heavy huff of air and walked over to plop down onto the bed. “It’s only been a few days, and of course Dad doesn’t know. I’m ninety-eight percent sure Number Eight is a  _ he _ , but Dad doesn’t exactly have a plethora of books on the subject. In the end I pretty much had to guess.” She reached over to pick up Number Eight and deposited him on her lap, where he immediately settled. “And I’m going to keep him.” 

 

“But what about food? And a litter box?” Klaus asked, sitting down beside her. “And room to roam? Don’t cats like that?” 

 

“What, roaming?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“It’s not like I can just waltz up to Dad and tell him that I found a kitten and am keeping it forever,” Allison said, “can you imagine what he might do?” 

 

A chilly darkness fell over the previously warm child, and he looked down at his hands. It took him a few moments, but he finally breathed out, “I can imagine…” When Number Eight looked over at him, Klaus held out a hand, and he once again pressed his nose to it. “Can I help you take care of him?” 

 

Allison nodded. “Sure.” She had no idea what had been going on with her little brother lately, but it seemed sometimes like he held the weight of the world on his too-thin shoulders. “I just… I haven’t found a way to tell any of the others yet. I was gonna tell Luther tonight.” 

 

“I can tell Ben, if you want. He’s in with Dad right now, so good news would probably help,” Klaus replied. “And it’s not like you have to tell Five. He always knows everything, that little shit.” 

 

“True.” Allison lifted Number Eight again and leaned over to deposit him on Klaus’ lap instead, watching as the kitten sniffed him before curling up again. “And maybe we can tell Pogo, eventually. You know he doesn’t tell Dad everything unless we’re in  _ danger _ or whatever.” 

 

Klaus blinked down at the kitten and smiled easily for the first time in what felt like weeks. “So… Number Eight, huh?” 

 

“I like it. I think it suits him.” 

 

“I think I’m just gonna call him Eight, honestly. Saying it all makes me feel like I’m turning into Dad.” Klaus meant it as a joke, but he could see the way Allison tensed. “But it does suit him, being one of us.” 

 

_ Eight… just Eight… that would be fine,  _ Eight supposed, eyes fluttering shut. 

 

  * ••



 

Within the next few hours, Eight met Ben, and then Luther. 

 

Ben was full of unbridled warmth like sunshine, but something felt off about him, and Eight wasn't sure what it was. Ben had not hesitated to pull the kitten close and press a kiss to the space between his eyes, and that was enough to convince Eight that he was trustworthy. He would figure out the rest soon enough anyways. 

 

Luther, on the other hand, had a certain hesitation in his actions towards Eight. He didn't seem like a shy boy… no, he seemed eager to please, eager to please Allison more than anyone else. While the other three children he met had smelled and felt like children, Luther smelled like an adult, one who worked and suffered. 

 

But they were supposed to be children. Obviously, they needed Eight as much as he needed them. 

 

“I usually sneak out on Wednesdays to go to the library,” Ben convinced, “so I could maybe stop by the store and grab some things for him. I have some money saved.”

 

“Yeah, me too!” Klaus added brightly. 

 

Allison, Ben, and Klaus chattered about what Eight would need, and Luther just watched. Eight watched right back, with yellow eyes occasionally blinking. When Luther had stared long without any other action, Eight approached him, eventually butting at the boy's hand with his head, meowing loudly. 

 

“He wants you to pet him, Luther,”Allison said with a soft smile. 

 

“O-oh.” Luther choked out, bringing a hand slowly down to Eight's back. He pet the small kitten until a shy smile moved onto his face. Eight felt  _ very  _ reassured. 

 

  * ••



 

Eight was curled up in the warm spot between Ben and Klaus. They were in Ben's room, which was tidy and clean, the desk piled with books of all shapes and sizes. It had not taken the boys long to fall asleep, legs tangled together beneath the blankets, fingers intertwined against Eight's back. 

 

But someone was crying. Eight wriggled out from his spot slowly, taking care to hop down off the bed and over to the slightly cracked door. 

 

He knew there were more children he had not yet met, but that didn't matter. If one of them needed him, he could be there. Eight continued down the hallway, eventually finding an open door. 

 

It was a girl. Like Allison. But this was Not Allison. 

 

He let out a meow, and the girl turned to look at him, eyes red-rimmed from tears. “Where did you come from?” She asked, voice hoarse. She didn't make any moves to come closer, so Eight decided to make the first move, padding over to the side of the bed and meowing again, louder. He was still too small to get up himself. 

 

“Oh.” Not Allison reached down to pick him up, lifting until she could deposit him on the mattress. “Is someone going to come looking for you? I don't feel like dealing with anyone right now.”

 

Eight moved to curl against her side, nudging at her with his nose until she laid back down, hand stroking at his fur. He began to purr then, closing his eyes. There wasn't much he could do, but he could be there, so she wouldn't be alone. 

 

“I'm Vanya.”

 

_ Vanya _ . Another name, another smell, another voice to commit to his memory. But sleep… yes, sleep. She made herself comfortable in the darkness, and he closed his eyes, listening to the heart beating slow in her chest as she held him close.

 

Yes, Eight could be there when they needed him. 

 

  * ••



 

It had been many days since Allison had found Eight in the kitchen. He had a litter box now, hidden in their communal bathroom, and a food dish that was placed in Ben's room, although his Humans still brought him bacon scraps every morning. 

 

And now he had  _ Diego _ , who did not talk much, but let Eight sit on his shoulder when they were alone in his bedroom, in the comfortable quiet. 

 

And  _ Five _ , who pretended he didn't like Eight when they were around the others, but would stroke Eight's ears and throw a small rattling ball for him to chase. 

 

Eight had his Humans, the ones he was there to protect and care for… since it seemed like no one else was going to care for them. It was up to Eight to make sure they would be alright. 


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number Eight spends quality time with each of his Humans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story probably won't be much longer but it has been so fun to write. Comment to scream with me about the song "Dancing in the Moonlight." 
> 
> ♡,
> 
> Kath

Number Eight wouldn’t say he was spoiled. Pampered? Maybe. Adored? Definitely. But spoiled? Hm… okay, yes, maybe he was a little spoiled. He spent most of his hours napping, and when he wasn’t napping (or as he sometimes liked to call it - passive protecting) he was actively protecting. Active protection meant something different for each of his Humans, but that was alright. Spending time with them, he had learned what each of them was about, how they ticked. 

 

**_Luther_ **

 

It was a new record. Eight could tell because of the smell, and the tearing off of the plastic packaging, and the look of excitement on Luther’s face (there was not much that excited Luther, so it was a special look, one that Eight held close to his heart). 

 

Eight was laid on the foot of the bed, head resting on his paws. He watched as Luther kneeled down in front of the record player and carefully set the vinyl down, bringing down the needle and turning the volume to medium-low. 

 

_ “Suzanne takes you down to her place by the river _

_ You can hear the boats go by, you can spend the night forever _

_ And you know that she's half crazy that's why you want to be there…” _

 

Luther moved to lie down on the bed, feet near the pillows. He was propped up on his elbows beside Eight, who began to purr, shifting so his back was pressed to Luther’s side, so he could feel his breathing. 

 

Most of his time with Luther was spent listening to records. Sometimes, if Reginald was working for an extended amount of time with another of the children, the boy would pull out one of his model planes. Eight would hop up on his lap and press his cheek to Luther’s stomach. Occasionally, Luther would reach down and just press a hand to his back, like an anchor, keeping Eight steady. 

 

It was nice. 

 

**_Diego_ **

 

“ _ Meow _ .” 

 

Diego, who had been sharpening one of his knives, looking up and levelled Eight with his gaze. “No.” He looked back down then, turning the knife to check the edge. 

 

Eight moved forward and lifted a paw to  _ pat pat  _ at Diego’s knee. “ _ Meo-o-ow. _ ” 

 

“Do you not understand what ‘no’ means?” Diego asked, reaching over to slip the knife back into the case, closing it and flipping the locks. “I mean, I say it to you enough, you should know by now.” 

 

To be honest, Eight didn’t take ‘no’ well. If Diego really meant it, it might be different, but his no was purely out of teasing. Eight liked that. He meowed again, and again, and again, rolling around in the space in front of Diego’s crossed legs. He stuck out his tongue the smallest bit in what he  _ knew  _ was his cutest pose, and then Diego was glancing at him. 

 

“ _ Fine _ , you little freak.” Diego finally said, and Eight immediately moved, jumping smoothly up onto his shoulders and stretching his thin body across them. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.” 

 

Eight knew that Diego liked when he stretched out across his shoulders. He knew because he could almost immediately feel his Human relax, calming to the feel of Eight’s heartbeat against his neck. And Eight liked his resting spot - it was cozy. 

 

And there he fell asleep while Diego paged through the new Superman comic. 

 

**_Allison_ **

 

Allison had been his Human first. He still spent many nights curled up in bed with her, in the space behind her knees as she breathed deeply. Sometimes he would swipe at her springy curls while she read her magazines, occasionally even chewing at one until she said “ew” and pushed him away, laughing. 

 

She was “in charge” of him. She always dictated who was in charge of procuring what for him, whose turn it was to feed him, to clean his litter box. Eight sometimes wondered why Luther was the leader, when Allison was such a good candidate. Was it because she was a girl? Maybe. 

 

“You came at just the right time, you know,” Allison said one evening, Eight curled up to her chest. “You showed up just when I needed someone to take care of. Thank you.”

 

Eight meowed in appreciation. Home - home was good. 

 

**_Klaus_ **

 

Klaus had not been home for three days. Reginald would not tell the children where he was, according to Ben (who was the expert in Klaus, if anyone was), only explaining that he was  _ training  _ and  _ not to be disturbed _ . 

 

“Bullshit,” Five had said, in his usual Five way, “he probably killed him and hid his body somewhere.” 

 

Eight hissed sharply, and the children turned to look at him. 

 

“My sentiments exactly,” Five said, smug. 

 

Klaus returned in the dead of night. He was covered in dirt, eyes red and bloodshot, hands wringing at the bottom of his stained white shirt. Eight, who had been asleep on Vanya's chest, followed him to the bathroom, waiting patiently as the boy started the water going for a bath and added a generous amount of bubbles. 

 

A sniffle, and then Klaus was crying, fat tears rolling down and over his dirty cheeks. 

 

“ _ Meow _ .” 

 

Klaus looked over at him, shaky smile making its way onto his face. “Hey, bud,” he said, voice hoarse. “You gonna hang out with me for a bit?”

 

Eight moved to wind himself around Klaus’ legs, the boy eventually pulling the kitten up to cuddle against his chest and chin. 

 

Klaus was home.  _ Now if only he would stay there _ . 

 

**_Five_ **

 

Eight was scooped up unexpectedly, and he meowed sharply, turning in their grasp to try and escape, but -

 

“Stop, Eight, it's me.” 

 

Oh.  _ Five _ . Eight glared at him and meowed again before settling against him, purring. 

 

“Reginald is on a warpath, and none of us want him finding you,” Five whispered, hurrying up to his room and quickly shutting the door. “He might come up here, but… well, I'm hoping that I can do a spatial jump and take you with me. That might end badly, though.”

 

Eight had seen Five's spatial jumping. The boy had been practicing a lot lately, because he wanted “the old man's” permission to try time traveling. Eight thought that, maybe, Five was biting off more than he could chew. 

 

The kitten was happy he had not met Reginald Hargreeves. From what he had heard, the man was  _ not nice _ , and Eight didn't know if he would be able to hold himself back in that situation. 

 

“I have an idea…” Five pulled opened the doors to his wardrobe and sat down inside before pulling the doors shut again, Eight settled on his lap. “That should throw him off. I have no idea what crawled up his ass and died - I think maybe us going rogue on the last mission. But his plan was stupid!” Five hissed out, petting at Eight's ears. “Sometimes I think you and I are the only ones in this house with brains, Eight.” 

 

Eight stretched out before curling back up into a ball. Five continued to chatter, quietly, and Eight fell asleep to the sound of his loving complaints. 

 

**_Ben_ **

 

His Human Ben was always reading. He went through books like they were irresistible candy, and while he did so, he would fold himself into the strangest positions to read comfortable. In some ways, Ben reminded Eight of a cat. 

 

The current book was called  _ Pride and Prejudice _ . Ben was practically falling off the bed, eyes trained on the pages as he absorbed the words. 

 

Eight nipped at Ben's fingers, and the boy pulled his hand away quickly. “ _ Ow _ !” he said, looking down at where beads of blood were forming. “What was that for?” 

 

“ _ Meow _ .” Eight said, blinking at him. “ _ Meo-o-ow, meow. _ ”

 

Ben looked around, awareness of his position making him carefully push back so his entire body was on the bed. “Oh. Thanks, Eight.” The boy shifted to kiss the space between Eight's eyes, just as he always did, and Eight purred happily. 

 

That was when he noticed the strange coloring of Ben’s fingernails. They were pink, like the lipgloss Allison had bought at the drugstore that smelled of artificial strawberry. Eight nudged his nose against one and looked at Ben, questioning. 

 

Ben looked sad. Eight did not like that. 

 

“Sometimes,” Ben whispered, “I don't feel like a boy. Klaus and Allison were painting their fingernails and left in the bathroom so I… I took it and painted mine. You can't tell anybody, okay?” 

 

Even if Eight could speak their strange human language, he would not tell anyone what Ben had shared with him. He licked Ben’s fingers and laid down to sleep. 

 

**_Vanya_ **

 

Number Seven, as Vanya was sometimes called, was very often left alone by the other children. If anything, it was Five who she spent the most time with. The boy would sit on the floor and lean back against the wall while Vanya practiced her violin, seeming at peace. 

 

But most times, she was alone. Eight liked to make himself available then, to cuddle close to her while she cried silently on her bed, or lay by her feet as she practiced, or even meow at her and lick her chin until she laughed. Her laugh was lovely, but it was rare to hear. 

 

“Dad tells me there's nothing special about me,” Vanya admitted to him in the quiet one afternoon. The other children were gone, on a mission, and would not be back until late most likely. “Do you think he's right?”

 

Eight sometimes wished he could speak, to reassure her. Instead, he passed away from her and nosed at the violin, where it was resting at the end of the bed. He meowed and patted at it with his paw. 

 

_ You are special. You're all so, so special.  _ Eight padded back over to stretch out over her lap.  _ I hope you believe it someday.  _

 

**_His Humans_ **

 

Five came home with a surprise one day. He showed all the others first, before walking over and kneeling down to put the object around Eight's neck. 

 

“There,” he said, “now you're really one of us.”

 

The collar was a navy blue, with a medallion that had a simple “8” on one side, the umbrella on the other. Pogo, who had recently learned of the kitten and agreed not to tell Reginald, gave Five the money needed for such. 

 

“If he ever gets out, he must have some sort of identification,” Pogo had said, “to ensure he makes it home safely.”

 

Yes, the academy was home. They were his Humans. And he felt happy, in that moment, receiving pets from them as they admired his new collar. 

 


End file.
